Time Is Meant To Heal All Wounds
by an-alternate-world
Summary: Every year there are two particular weeks, several months apart, when Blaine seems to withdraw into himself, shying away from being held, refusing to have his clothes peeled from his skin, arriving home late with reddened eyes.


**Title: **Time Is Meant To Heal All Wounds  
**Author: **an-alternate-world  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters/Pairing: **Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe  
**Word Count:** 707  
**Summary:** Every year there are two particular weeks, several months apart, when Blaine seems to withdraw into himself, shying away from being held, refusing to have his clothes peeled from his skin, arriving home late with reddened eyes.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None for this drabble.  
**Disclaimer: **I am in no way associated with _Glee_, FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

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_**Anonymous** prompted a fic which included the line: "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."_

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Every year there are two particular weeks, several months apart, when Blaine seems to withdraw into himself, shying away from being held, refusing to have his clothes peeled from his skin, arriving home late with reddened eyes.

The first year, he doesn't really think much of it.

He passes it off because it's easy to believe that sometimes Blaine just gets worn down, that his emotional capacity is burned into non-existence and he needs to recharge the batteries. He's a little lost at first, the warm weight that usually exists in his lap missing, but he adapts and grants Blaine his space until he seems to bounce back with the same level of enthusiasm for life as always.

The second year, he notices it but he doesn't realise it's the _exact_ same time of year.

He spends more time scrutinising Blaine when the other male deigns to be around, trying to analyse the tight lines around his eyes, the downturn to his lips, the lack of sparkle in his expression. He puts it down to deadlines, and stress, and minimal sleep, and when Blaine crawls into his arms a week later and nuzzles into his neck, he forgets that something was amiss.

The third year, he realises a pattern has developed and he's determined to get to the bottom of it.

He doesn't see Blaine for two days at one point, his texts and calls unanswered. He was on the verge of starting to call hospitals and morgues when Blaine had shown up on his doorstep, small, dishevelled, swollen eyes and a lisp in his words that betrayed he was a few drinks past sober. He pressed his hands into Blaine's shoulders, his concern increasing when Blaine flinched and pulled away from him. When Sebastian tried to bring it up the next morning, he'd been unequivocally shut down and stared at Blaine's retreating back like he was a stranger.

The fourth year, he thinks he gets it.

It's an accident that he realises, actually. He watches Blaine, curled into the arm chair rather than in his arms, and the way he absently turns the ring around his finger with his thumb. Blaine's eyes are on the TV but his thoughts are somewhere else entirely and as he observes Blaine's fidgeting, he notices the slight tremble in Blaine's hands.

And, with startling, painful clarity, he understands.

"It's the time of year when he called off the engagement, isn't it?" he says, not surprised when Blaine jumps and his fingers tuck into his lap to hide what he'd been doing. "And the other time of year- It's the time you'd set a date for the wedding?"

Blaine opens his mouth, his eyes down, but no sound comes out. Sebastian knows he's right and his heart breaks a little that it took him so long to put the pieces together. Why didn't he just _ask_?

He slides off the couch to kneel in front of Blaine's chair, his hands smoothing into Blaine's lap to tangle their fingers together. He stares up at Blaine, the way a tear slides down his cheek, and squeezes his hands.

"I'm not going to do that to you," he promises, his thumb brushing against the ring Blaine had been fiddling with earlier. "I'm with you, okay? Always. I'm not letting go of you."

Blaine sniffs, a weak smile wobbling across his lips, and for the first time during one of these weeks, his arms open to allow Sebastian in - like now that he gets it, now that he's comprehended the pain, he's allowed to take it away.

He scoops Blaine off the tiny arm chair he'd never fit on and returns them to the couch, bundling the other male into his lap and tucking Blaine's head against his shoulder. He listens to Blaine's sniffles and sobs, kisses his forehead and rocks him back and forth, and when Blaine seems to be cried out, he tips his fiance's head back and kisses him soundly.

"I love you," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against Blaine's. "Always."

Blaine inhales sharply, his shiny eyes closing as he collects himself, his fingers twisting into Sebastian's shirt. "Thank you."

Sebastian smiles and presses a softer, chaster, kiss to Blaine's lips.

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_**~FIN~**_


End file.
